


For the Sake of Silence

by discopolice



Category: Wakfu
Genre: M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Rough Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-16
Updated: 2013-01-16
Packaged: 2017-11-25 16:34:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,302
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/640904
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/discopolice/pseuds/discopolice
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Something's going on between Qilby and the King. Oh, those men of power..."</p>
            </blockquote>





	For the Sake of Silence

Chibi aches, bruised and marked with the evidence of the morning’s fight, and he sits in his workshop seething. It feels as though fire runs through his tired veins whenever he thinks of the words Qilby said to him, the words he said to Qilby, and he almost has the mind to get up right then and punch the smug old man in the nose for so much as daring to call him  _weak._

What he wants is to slam the damned man into a bookcase, so hard he’d almost knock it over, and _show_  him just how strong he is. He wants to make Qilby eat his words, make him scream aloud that he was wrong, sing the praises of the king—

When Qilby walks up behind him, slams his hands into the edge of the desk and  _bites_  Chibi’s exposed shoulder so hard it nearly bleeds out the bruise there, Chibi doesn’t even notice he’s been had. He moves to bite out a scathing “hello, old man,” but before he can one of Qilby’s spindly hands clamps over his mouth.

“I figured I should  _make_  you shut up instead of just  _talking_  about it.” Chibi can’t look behind him with Qilby’s hand holding him in place, but he knows Qilby’s smirking. He takes a blind swing behind him, but Qilby’s other hand catches his wrist and pins it against the edge of the desk. “No, no, you won’t get away like that. Just shut your mouth and take it,  _child._ ”

Chibi bites, claws at the hand holding his mouth shut so that it loosens and he can whip his head around and yell “you’re the child, all you do is  _whine_ —“ but the hand’s on his mouth again and he can taste a trickle of Qilby’s blood as the bearded man gives his ass a hard smack.

“Shut up, shut up,  _shut up!_ ” Qilby tears Chibi’s hat off his head and Chibi realizes all at once his mix of anger and potent arousal. In fact, he doesn’t think he’s been this hard in  _months._  He swears, though, that he’ll get the upper hand eventually, if he’s just patient.

“All you do is talk. You’re all talk, no action, and  _that_  is why you’re going to get fucked into your own stupid workbench until you scream my name, because you’re too weak to even resist!” Chibi feels the wood’s hard edge dig into his bare stomach, feels Qilby shoving him against the desk with his hips, feels Qilby’s arousal pressing into the cleft of his ass through layers of cloth, and it takes every bit of pride he has  _not_  to give in. He won’t give in, not as a man or as the one who’s in the right in this argument, so he slams his hips backwards and grins when he hears Qilby grunt.

“Oh, so you like this! You _like_  it when I bend you forward over a desk like a woman! What a weak-willed slut you must be.” And Qilby grinds against Chibi’s ass with every word, palms his straining cock through his pants.

“You must be twice a woman, then, because—“ Chibi’s words come out muffled by Qilby’s hand before being cut off completely by two of his fingers shoving their way into his mouth. Qilby’s other hand works down his pants past his ass, and Chibi shudders at the cold air against him.

“Suck, now. Get them as wet as you can, because that’s all you’re getting.” Chibi bites down in spite, but Qilby shoves them further in and strokes the back of his tongue, and Chibi gags. “Be thankful my cock isn’t down your throat right now,  _Chibi._ ”

Chibi feels himself internally clawing at his self-control, which is slipping away from him at an alarming rate. All he can focus on is his quick pulse, Qilby’s body against his, the fingers that are shoving their way in and out of his mouth, and even those melt into the humid haze of arousal he’s spiraling more into every second. He wants to scream, wants to reach back and grab Qilby’s stupid fucking beard and throw  _him_  against the desk and fuck him until he can’t move or speak.

_But he can’t._

And that, with all the frustration and anger coiling in his stomach, is the  _hottest_  thing about it.

When Qilby pulls his fingers out with a slick ‘pop,’ Chibi’s mouth automatically opens to get a few jabs in, but his other hand is over his mouth before he can make a sound. One finger slips into his ass, then two, and the way they press and scissor inside of him is enough to make him nearly explode. His head would fall forward, but Qilby is holding it back with the hand firmly clamped over his mouth, and his hands fist helplessly against the edge of the desk.

Qilby presses into Chibi, with some effort, and it  _hurts._  The burn spirals through his body as he feels himself stretch to accommodate the intrusion, and all he can think is  _damn, he’s bigger than I remember_  – or is he just tight? He doesn’t know and doesn’t care enough to think on it. He has no doubt it hurts some for Qilby, too, being squeezed so firmly, but Qilby doesn’t even stop to let Chibi adjust before he’s ramming him into the desk with long, hard strokes.

“Like this, hmm? How does it feel to shut that mouth of yours for once and let me use you?” Qilby’s hand grasps Chibi’s dripping cock and strokes it hard, just once, and Chibi sobs against the hand and shuts his eyes. It’s all too much to handle, Chibi feels like he could burst at any second with the tension built so heavily in his body, but Qilby won’t let him and it hurts and feels too good at the same time.

“Fuck you,” Chibi says against Qilby’s palm.

“It seems as though I’m fucking  _you_.” Qilby’s panting now, shuddering with every thrust, and small grunts escape his throat when Chibi pushes back on him.

“Let me  _come._ ” Qilby’s hand is moving far too slow for Chibi, and even with the muffled voice Qilby can tell exactly what he’s saying. He reaches down and pulls on Chibi’s balls, moving them away from his body.

“No. Beg.” From the clipped tones Chibi can tell Qilby is close; he’s gritting his teeth, his knees are shaking slightly, and his thrusts are becoming more and more erratic. Chibi is almost there, right at the edge of completely unraveling, but Qilby’s fingers close around his base and he almost screams at the denial.

He has no choice but to beg, so he does.

“Please.”

“Louder.” Qilby is getting off on this, the  _jerk._ He’s getting off on the way Chibi sounds against his hand. Chibi hates it, loves it, can’t  _decide which._

“Please, Qilby,  _harder,_  let me  _come_ , I need it—“

“Ah, since you asked so—nicely—“ Qilby’s hand squeezes Chibi harder, moves faster, and Chibi feels himself tip over the edge. His vision goes white, his body tenses and he arches as he spurts into Qilby’s hand; the orgasm spreads from his feet upwards, and for one moment he feels like he’s on fire in the best way possible. As he slackens, Qilby’s still using his spent form, and it takes a couple of seconds before Qilby finally moans aloud and comes inside of him.

They collapse upon each other, sweaty and floppy, and they slide to the ground together. Qilby laughs breathlessly for the first time since their fight, and Chibi chuckles with the little energy he has left.

“ _Damn_ ,” Chibi mutters. “Do that again.”

“Give me thirty minutes and a cup of water,” Qilby says.

“I didn’t mean  _immediately_ , you moron.”

“Shush.”


End file.
